Stellar's Jay
A poem
I read something recently about corvids, that is the family of birds that include crows, ravens, jackdaws, rooks, jays, magpies amongst other bird species. The article mentioned that Britain has many corvids but no jays. I knew that it is true but I hadn’t realized until I read it.
On my recent travels I was reacquainted with that old friend of my childhood the Stellar’s Jay. These two thoughts reminded me of a poem I wrote many years ago in bleaker times.
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedJays and Life
By Doug Morse
The air is cold, dry, and still.
Warm and bright, the sun's heat beats against face and arms,
From a cloudless sky of such dark blue.
The clean cold air is scented by juniper, sage, and pinion.
Scattered over the hills like a retreating army.
A gust of wind flushes the warmth from the skin.
A reminder it is still winter.
Stellar's jays compete with sky for brightness and silence for din.
Their sound is as isolated as the wind stirring the sage.
It is on such a day that the sun's warmth and jay's call reminds one of life.
And the sterile blue sky and chill air reckon that death is always near.
And one remembers to celebrate the sun,
And the good cheer of jays.
